


A Little Respite

by QueenSabriel



Category: Old Kingdom - Garth Nix
Genre: Couch Sex, F/M, Prompt Fic, Sex, foot massage turns into couch sex, you get the picture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2014-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-22 12:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2507645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenSabriel/pseuds/QueenSabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes even Sabriel needs to get off her feet for a moment, especially during those oh-so-fashionable oh-so-long Ancelstierran parties.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Respite

**Author's Note:**

  * For [suspiciousteapot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/suspiciousteapot/gifts).



If Touchstone had any doubts about Ancelstierran parties, they were gone by the third or fourth drink. The grand ballroom of the Hereditary Arbiter’s estate was awash in a sea of expensive fabric and jewelry, filled to the bursting with people from all across Ancelstierre and beyond. It might have been entirely too overwhelming if Sabriel wasn’t on his arm, but his wife – he still felt a slight thrill at that thought – slipped into this culture as easily as she had donned the elegant red and gold dress she wore.

The elegant red and gold dress with an incredibly flattering neckline (if it could even really be called a _neck_ line).

Touchstone realized he was staring again and gave himself a shake.

“If I hear one more person say ‘the event of the season’ I’m going to drive one of my heels through their skull,” Sabriel muttered out of the corner of her mouth as yet another one of her school friends trailed past.

“I’m fairly certain those do classify as deadly weapons,” Touchstone said, glancing down with a bemused grimace. He didn’t quite understand the so-called ‘stiletto’ heels that were just coming into fashion in Ancelstierre – and he didn’t understand why Sabriel, who was naturally taller than just about every woman present, felt the need to add another few inches to her height. Not that he was complaining, they did do wonderful things for her figure…

This time, Sabriel _did_ catch him staring. She smirked, snagging another glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “I told you that you’d enjoy this.”

“I may still need convincing,” Touchstone said, then, “Aren’t your feet killing you?”  He could have sworn she drained her glass in the time it took him to blink.

“Is it starting to show?” Sabriel whispered conspiratorially. “I’m trying very hard not to wince.  Sulyn’s still got hers on and I’m determined to last longer than her.”

Touchstone laughed, pulling her in for a kiss. It was a little disconcerting to have to tilt his chin _up_ to meet her lips. “I was going to offer you a foot rub, if there’s a place to sit,” he murmured.

Sabriel looked around the room for a moment, then took him by the arm, tugging him towards the hall. Touchstone followed, most of his focus on not stumbling rather than on where they were actually headed. The main hallway was still fairly crowded, but the air felt so much cooler and less heady that Touchstone gasped in a lungful of it, arm still linked with his wife’s. Sabriel seemed to be counting the doors they passed as they moved further and further from the ballroom.

Finally she stopped outside a pair of doors made from some dark, burnished wood. After casting a surreptitious look up and down the hall, Sabriel slid them open and pulled Touchstone inside.

He guessed they were in the Arbiter’s study. Two tall mullioned windows looked out on the yard, with a large oak desk before them. Three of the walls were lined with bookshelves, and a plush leather couch stood before the fire. It was towards the couch that Sabriel pulled Touchstone, navigating by the glow of a single lamp burning on one of the side tables.

Then, unceremoniously, she flopped down on the couch and stuck one foot out. “Well?”

“As you say, m’lady,” Touchstone said, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he sat and held her foot in his lap.

Sabriel snorted, nudging him with her foot. “Oh just get one with it.”

“Eager to get back out there?” Touchstone took his time undoing the straps of her shoe and sliding it off her foot before doing the same with the other. After a beat he lifted one and kissed her toes, which made Sabriel roll her eyes.

“It is a rather nice party,” she said, closing her eyes as Touchstone began to press his thumbs against the arch of her foot, coaxing the tension out of her tendons. She sank back against the small pillow behind her and let out a little sigh; Touchstone’s hands moved from her feet to her calves, the feeling of his calloused fingers on her skin familiar and comforting.

A moment later she felt him shift, one hand hooking behind her knee so that when he moved to kneel in front of the couch he was also kneeling between her legs. Sabriel’s eyes flew open, her breath instantly coming a bit quicker. She met Touchstone’s gaze and felt a flush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

“What?” she asked, more than a little breathlessly.

“Just…admiring you, Abhorsen,” Touchstone murmured, voice low. As he started pushing the material of her skirt up, he leaned over to kiss the inside of her thigh, eliciting a breathy sigh.

Sabriel bit her lip. “Touchstone…the party…”

“Pretty sure it will keep going without us,” he said, sliding his hands up a little further to tug her panties down the length of her legs.

“Hnnm…” She mumbled noncommittally, hands clutching at her skirt.

Touchstone let out a soft laugh before he lowered his head again, pressing his mouth to her, finding her hot and wet, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue, gripping her hips with both hands. When he had her writhing against the couch and letting out small, mewling almost-moans, Touchstone looked up, moisture still glistening on his lips. “Feet feeling any better?”

“Really not the body part I’m thinking about right now,” Sabriel breathed. “Up here, _now_.”

It was a bit difficult to clamber up and kiss her while also unbuttoning his trousers, but Touchstone managed, pushing them down with considerably less grace than Sabriel used as she wrapped one leg around his hips. They kissed again, open mouthed, Sabriel threading her fingers into Touchstone’s hair as her other hand slipped between them.

A moment later she let out a soft moan as he slid into her, his own hand clutching in a white-knuckled grip at the back of the couch. Touchstone slowed, lips finding her cheek, her jaw, the hollow of her throat as he pressed his hips forward, filling her entirely. Then he began to move; steady, deep thrusts accompanied by low sounds of contentment.

Sabriel rose to meet each movement, tilting her head back, lips parting. Her soft sighs were getting sharper, and as Touchstone started to move a little quicker and more desperately, she began to moan, then all but cry out, clearly not caring if anyone heard. Touchstone had both hands on the back of the couch now, aware only of how flushed her usually cool skin felt, the way her legs squeezed on either side of his waist, her fingernails digging into his back and her body moving with his -

Then she was coming, a choked sob that might have been his name escaping her lips, muscles clenching so it only took one more thrust before he spilled into her.

Touchstone groaned again, quieter, as he relaxed, well aware that having his full weight on top of her probably wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world, but he couldn’t bring himself to move just yet. She gave him another minute before she patted him between the shoulder blades.

“Up, unless you actually want me to pass out.”

“You’re so comfortable,” Touchstone murmured, kissing her neck.

Sabriel put her hands on his shoulders and succeeded in pushing him over next to her. “Yes, well the boning in my dress was poking me.” She wriggled her hips, and it took Touchstone a moment to realize she was tugging her skirt down. Then she leaned over, giving him a languid kiss as she moved her hands to help tuck him back into his trousers.

“This was fun,” Touchstone mumbled against her lips. “Let’s do this at every party.”

“It’s highly improper, your highness,” Sabriel said, turning to kiss his palm when he lifted it to her cheek.

He snorted. “They already think I’m some sort of barbarian king who has taken a sorceress as his queen…I really don’t care if they know how much I enjoy having sex with you.”

Sabriel’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “In the Hereditary Arbiter’s private study?”

“He’s a rather rude person. He made a joke about the fact that I’m wearing earrings,” Touchstone said, pouting a little.

“That bastard,” Sabriel said. “I think they look very dashing.” She bit her lip then, grinning at him. “So…shall we do it on his desk next time?” 

 


End file.
